


Trust

by Fyre



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: American Airlines, Dominance, Freebird - Freeform, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Submission, friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 16:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4632144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam was always the kind of man to watch out for his friends. When Steve needed an out from the hospital, Sam was happy to provide it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

Steve didn’t want to stay in the hospital a second longer than he had to.

Hell, twenty minutes after he came around after three damn days in a coma, he was trying to shove the blankets off and get out of the bed, despite Sam telling him he should be resting. The fact he folded like a bad poker player and landed bare-assed on the floor made Sam’s point more than any words. 

Still, it didn’t take a genius to figure out he wasn’t comfortable there. Sam could see how on edge he was, and a glance at the charts when he came back in the next morning showed that Steve hadn’t slept and that his freaky high vitals were even higher than usual. 

Of all the people to have a hospital phobia, Sam would never have pegged Steve for one of them, but everyone had something. Maybe he’d had a bad time in hospital when he was a kid, or whatever. It was enough to get him on edge, and that wasn’t helping.

So, when Steve wasn’t looking, he spoke quietly to the doctors, made the arrangements, and pretended to look surprised when the doctors told Steve he could be released on condition he had someone to check on him.

“I’ll do that,” Sam had said at once, and wouldn’t hear a word of protest. When you’re in the middle of enacting a plan to save your friend’s ass, protests don’t come into it. Dude, he remembered wryly, Captain America needs my help.

“This isn’t necessary,” Steve grumbled when they got him packed up to head out. Under the complaint, Sam could tell he was relieved, so much so he’d even conceded to sit in a wheelchair. He had a cap pulled low, and was hunched down in the chair, trying to make it so no one could recognise him.

Sam snickered. He’d borrowed one of the EMT’s jackets and he had taken charge of the wheelchair. “I was just gonna offer you a blanket, grandpa. I’m just a young medic taking an old man for a ride.”

Steve shot a look at him that was mostly amused, but with enough sass in his raised eyebrow to make Sam grin ear to ear. “If I wasn’t crashing on your couch, I’d threaten to put you across my knee.”

Sam considered that option. Well, wasn’t often he had a good-looking guy big enough to make good on that threat. Still, if they had been flirting - and he was pretty sure they had been - sometimes, it was better to test the waters. 

“Let’s start with getting you to bed first. Spanking can come later.”

His grin got so wide it hurt his face when he saw the back of Captain America’s neck go red as a tomato.

Steve didn’t say much until they were in the car and halfway back to his place. “Sam…”

Sam shot a look at him. “If it’s about the spanking thing, don’t worry about it,” he said gently. “I was joking.”

Steve hesitated. His big hands were spread on edge of his shield, which was propped against his legs. Sam could see the way he was curling his fingers in, tensing up, closing down. That was the trouble with knowing what to look for. He’d started spotting Steve’s tells.

“But if you want to,” he continued smoothly, as if he hadn’t even stopped talking, “I wouldn’t say no.” He signalled to turn, glancing into the wing mirror. “It’s been a while, but-”

“I don’t like to do the spanking.” Steve’s words came out like rapid gunfire. 

Ah.

He turned to smile at Steve. “I can work with that.”

The relief that flooded Steve’s face said everything. How many people expected him to take lead all the time? He was Captain America after all, soldier, commander, and hero and all that other bullshit. And he was _Steve_. He wasn’t the kind of guy who would sleep with just anyone, to let down his guard, let people see him like he really was.

And here he was, coming into Sam’s home, admitting that he needed someone to take charge for him.

Sam reached over and squeezed his thigh in a way more than just friendly way. “Anyone ever tell you you’re cute when you blush, Rogers?”

Steve ducked his head like a teenager going on their first prom, lips turning in that little half-smile that was more genuine than the Cap white-toothed grin. He didn’t even have a snappy comeback, which had to be a first.

Instead, he just covered Sam’s hand on his thigh and gave it a squeeze, then let go.

Sam smiled, returning his hand to the wheel. “You hungry? We can pick up some takeout on the way.”

“I could eat,” Steve agreed. “I’m not a big fan of the jello.”

“You,” Sam snorted, “are an uncivilised ass.” He glanced at the street name. “Okay, we got Thai on the left, Chinese or Indian straight on, or if you want to be good old cholesterol-fuelled American, we can go for finger-lickin’ chicken.”

“I like Thai,” Steve said at once. “Spicy.”

Sam grinned. “You just love shattering the stereotypes, don’t you?”

Steve shrugged with a half-smile. “I do what I can.” 

They ended up picking enough to feed a dozen people. The way Steve’s body burned up energy to heal was impressive and more than a little terrifying, and Sam had a feeling leftovers might come in handy.

“You need me to carry anything?” Steve inquired, as they got out of the car.

“I need you to carry your ass up those stairs and get inside,” Sam replied, tossing him the keys. “Don’t make me tell you twice.”

Steve threw a salute at him, but Sam could see the way he was still struggling as he picked his way up the stairs. Multiple gunshots including a nearly-fatal stomach shot, one hell of a beating, and almost drowning would do that to a man. 

Steve hadn’t told him all the details of what had happened on the helicarrier, and Sam hadn’t pushed. What he did know was that every injury had been inflicted by Bucky, but in the end, Steve was almost convinced that Bucky was the person who had pulled him out of the river after the helicarrier went down.

It was hard to say something without shattering his hopes. Better to let him have that belief, at least until he was physically recovered. Then he could deal with everything else. Hell, maybe he was right. Maybe his friend did remember him. 

Right now, they couldn’t focus on that, not when Steve was leaning on the walls to get to the table, and was almost as pale as he had been in the hospital. 

“Okay,” Sam set the boxes of food down on the table. “First off, you’re gonna eat, then you’re gonna sleep.”

The fact that Steve didn’t even protest was all the confirmation Sam needed that he had to be feeling like hell. He managed three boxes of takeout, including the family-sized portion of pad thai, then let Sam guide him through to the bedroom. He was out before his head even hit the pillow, curling up smaller than a guy his size should have been able to do.

Sam drew the cover over him, then checked his brow for any sign of a raised temperature. It was difficult to tell with Steve. He seemed to run hot all the time, but for now, it wasn’t a fever. The last thing he needed was a septic wound and it wasn’t impossible after dipping three open wounds in the Potomac.

Sam returned to the kitchen, packing up the leftover takeout into the refrigerator. He sent a message on to Natasha to let her know the walking dead was now fed and asleep and no longer hunting for brains.

Five minutes later, she replied: As long as he didn’t bite you, you’re good ;)

He started to type that biting was for later, then snorted and erased it. Maybe she had guessed about his crush on Steve, but until anything happened, and until he knew Steve was okay with people knowing if and when stuff had happened, it was better not to say anything.

There wasn’t a whole lot for him to do apart from checking on Steve. The apartment was tidy, the trash was out, and he didn’t want to go too far in case anyone had seen him bring Steve in and was looking to finish the job.

He was six episodes into some random new series on netflix when he heard a thump from the bedroom. He tossed the remote aside and ran through. 

Steve was on his feet, swaying. He looked pale and disorientated, his pupils dilated. His hands were clenching and unclenching by his sides, and he didn’t seem to even notice that Sam was there. A nightmare, from the looks of things, and a pretty bad one.

“Hey,” Sam approached slowly. “Steve, man, you okay?”

Steve blinked hard, trying to focus on him. “S-Sam?”

Sam gently caught one of his arms. “Yeah, buddy. Me. You’re at my place, remember? You’re safe.”

“Safe,” Steve echoed. He let Sam steer him back to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it. His breathing was evening out again and he smiled tensely. “Sorry.”

Sam crouched down in front of him. “You okay? You need anything? Meds? Food? Something to drink? You’ve been out a while.”

Steve looked down at his knees, breathing long and deep. “Food,” he decided. “Food would be good.”

Sam patted him on the knee. “You stay put, okay? I’ll heat up some of the leftovers.”

Just to be on the safe side, he piled the tray with a pitcher of water, some of the painkillers, and two full boxes of food. Steve managed a wan smile, and Sam left him to it, but as soon as he left the room, he heard the pop of pills being broken out of the packet.

When he went back through to check on Steve again, he wasn’t surprised that Steve was curled back on the bed, out again. Two nights without sleep in the hospital, despite the coma, hadn’t been good for him. 

He cleared up the empty boxes and pitcher, then returned to the couch and watched a couple more episodes. Before he turned in for the night, he checked to make sure Steve was still okay. He was snoring quietly, so Sam left a fresh pitcher of water on the bedside locker, as well as a strip of painkillers, then headed back to the couch.

The sun woke him the next morning.

Sam squinted at his watch, then sat up, rubbing at his eyes. Any other day, being up at 6am meant going for a run. He hadn’t been out since the attack on the helicarriers, and he was starting to feel it. Not in a big way, but just sitting around wasn’t his style. 

He glanced in on Steve. The pitcher of water was empty. The painkillers were gone, and Steve was starfished across the bed on his belly, one arm hung over the side, the other hugging the pillow under his head. 

Half an hour couldn’t hurt.

By the time he got back, Steve was still asleep, and had flipped onto his back, the covers kicked off onto the floor. His t-shirt was riding up, and his bandages around his stomach were coming loose. Definitely not an easy sleeper, but if he was actually sleeping, he definitely needed it. 

Sam left him to it and headed into the bathroom, turning on the shower full power.

When he came back out, towel slung around his hips, muscles still aching pleasantly from the run, he wasn’t surprised to find Steve drowsily peering at him.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” he said with a smile. “Feeling better?”

“Mm.” Steve patted the bed beside him. He was on his side now, his left arm tucked up under his head, but he looked relaxed which was definitely a good thing. 

Sam sat down beside him. “You needing something?”

Sleep-hazy blue eyes settled on his face. “Sleeping beauty got a kiss.”

Sam stared at him, his heart skipping a beat, then grinned. “Yeah, she did.” He wondered if Steve was even awake enough to notice how much he was blushing. Still, the invitation was right there, so he leaned down and pressed his lips to Steve’s for the first time. 

Steve tilted his head into the kiss. He was clumsy and drowsy, but god, he was eager. He made a quiet, hungry sound that went straight from Sam’s ears right down to his balls. It didn’t help when Steve’s free hand slid along Sam’s thigh, right under the towel, almost knocking it clean off. 

Sam braced himself on Steve’s hip, sitting back. “Hold up,” he said, his thumb moving in a circle on the skin showing between Steve’s waistband and the bandages. “I’m not gonna be the reason Captain America pops his stitches. Let me make sure everything’s okay first.”

Steve made a face at him, but rolled onto his back. “Feels fine,” he said, his eyes still half-closed, and those soft pink lips of his all swollen.

Sam leaned down over him and kissed him again, then bit his lower lip. “Don’t you sass me,” he warned. “I’m serious.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose and he smirked. It was the filthiest expression Sam had ever seen on his face. He reached down and pulled up his t-shirt. “Yes, sir.”

Sam tried his best to ignore it, undoing the already-loose bandages and pulling them free. The gauze peeled away easily, and Sam had to stare. While there was still a mark, the stitches had already popped themselves out, and the skin was closed over and only a dark pink.

He ran his thumb over the place that should have still been a healing wound. “Holy shit…”

Steve covered Sam’s hand with his own, spreading his palm on the warm, bare skin. “One of those dumb superpowers,” he murmured. He dragged Sam’s hand up his chest, until it was resting against his collarbone. “Told you. Feels fine.”

Sam met his eyes. “I’m not taking any chances,” he said, but he still leaned down to kiss Steve again. It was slow and it was lazy, and Steve’s hand was slowly kneading at the back of his. Sam ran the tip of his nose lightly across Steve’s. “You in the mood?”

Steve didn’t say anything. His other hand just curled around the back of Sam’s head, drawing him back down to kiss him again. He didn’t even need to come up for breath, and Sam was the one who had to back up, panting. 

Steve curled his fingers against the back of Sam’s neck. “You want to?” There was sudden wariness in his eyes. “We don’t have to if-”

Sam snorted. “Shut up,” he said and kissed him again. “You any idea how much I want to?” The indecision was still there though, and it blew Sam’s mind that someone who looked like Steve and did what Steve did could still doubt that someone could want him. He leaned down, bracing his hand on the pillow. “I’m gonna ride you like a bull, just like I wanted to from the day I met you.”

And there was that little half-smile, and the duck of the head. God, Steve really didn’t know how to take it when someone hit on him and hard. “Shit, Sam. The mouth on you.”

Sam grinned. “I can get so much worse.” He studied Steve, drawing circles on Steve’s chest with his fingertips. “I told the docs I was gonna take care of you, so we do this, you gotta do everything I tell you to do, okay? I don’t wanna have to drive you to the ER.”

He felt the way Steve’s heart picked up speed under his hand, even if his expression didn’t give it away. God, his own heart was going crazy too, the thought that Steve, who could take out thirteen men one-handed, wanted to be held down by him.

“You’re the boss,” Steve said, and somehow, his voice seemed even deeper.

Sam rewarded him with a kiss, then bit gently and sucked on Steve’s lower lip. Steve shuddered beneath him. “Good,” he murmured. He sat up, his hand still spread on Steve’s chest, his touch light. “You’re gonna take it easy.” He pushed his hand up. “Sit up.”

It was such a goddamn headrush when Steve did it, sitting there, tensed like he was ready to pounce. His breathing was faster now, and when Sam leaned closer and pulled Steve’s t-shirt up, dragging it over his head, Steve arched like a cat. The sight of him made Sam freeze up. It was just for a second, but it was enough.

“You okay?” The wariness was back.

Sam just let his eyes wander, making it absolutely clear that he liked what he was seeing. He’d seen buff guys before, but this was a whole other level. Steve had muscles in places that even the anatomy classes hadn’t mentioned. “Hell yeah.”

The half-smile returned, along with the relief. He reached for Sam, trying to pull him back for another kiss, but Sam braced a hand on his chest. 

“Hold up,” he murmured. “Didn’t tell you you could do that.”

Steve’s eyes danced. “Didn’t say I couldn’t either.”

Sam’s lips twitched. “So that’s how it’s gonna be?”

Steve chuckled. “Like you’re surprised.” 

“You got that right.” Sam traced his finger in the hollow between Steve’s collarbones, considering his options. Part of him wanted to see just how well Steve could obey, especially since he was pretty well-known for his insubordination. He pressed against the hollow with one fingertip, pushing back. “You’re gonna lie down, hands behind your head.”

And Steve did. 

He lay right down, and he laced his fingers between his head and the pillow. The way his lips drew back from his teeth was both smile and challenge. Sam had to take a second just to catch his breath. That look… Jesus, he could set water boiling with a look like that.

He leaned down over Steve again, lips so close to Steve’s they were almost - not quite - touching. Steve craned his neck up, trying to close the gap. “Not yet,” Sam murmured, keeping himself just out of reach. He held Steve’s eyes, Steve’s short, staggered breaths warm on his face, and ran his hand down Steve’s side.

He kept his touch light on purpose, watching for the twitches and listening for the hitches in Steve’s breathing that told him he’d found sensitive spots. His nails were short, but long enough to drag Steve’s skin tight across the ribs, leaving red ridges, and making him shudder from head to toe.

“You like that?” Sam murmured, moving his hand up, circling his thumb around one small nipple. His lips brushed Steve’s as he let his nail catch, and Steve exhaled suddenly, sharply, against his mouth. Sam wanted to grin. Instead, he darted his tongue against Steve’s upper lip, and when Steve craned up again, he drew back just enough. “I asked you a question,” he said and flicked with his nail again.

“Y-Yeah.” Steve’s pupils were wide, dark pools. “Jesus. Yeah.”

Sam lowered his head and nipped at Steve’s throat, hard enough to leave a mark. Steve inhaled sharply, and again when teeth scraped along his collarbone.

“You want me to stop,” Sam said conversationally, between slow, meandering kisses down that broad, rapidly rising and falling chest, “you just let me know.”

“Mm-hm. Sure.” Steve was breathing as if he’d run a hundred k.

Sam smirked, then closed his teeth on Steve’s unattended nipple. Nails and teeth tugged simultaneously, and it was like an electric charge shot the length of Steve’s whole body, his back arching and hips jerking.

“Christ!”

Sam chuckled, soothing the sensitive flesh with lazy flicks of his tongue and circling strokes of his thumb. “Better?” 

“Not really,” Steve gasped. His ribs were rising and falling. “Thought…” He took a gulping breath. “Thought you said I had to take it easy.”

Sam lifted his head to look at the other man, smiling like a cat. “This is easy.” He studied Steve’s face. There was a good colour in his cheeks now. He was flushed. Another glance went south. And interested. Very interested. Sam braced his hand over Steve’s heart, feeling the rapid beat fluttering there. 

God, there were so many things he wanted to do, but Steve was right. He couldn’t exhaust him. Maybe the wound was healed up on the outside, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be damage on the inside too.

“You want this to be quick or slow?” he asked, “cause I can do either.” 

Steve met his eyes. “Whatever you want, boss.”

Sam felt that pleasant heat go right through him. He leaned down and kissed Steve, letting him catch his breath. “Okay, Cap,” he breathed, lips still grazing Steve’s, “I want you to close your eyes.”

Steve’s tongue darted along his lips and he nodded, closing his eyes. It was a huge amount of trust in that, making himself vulnerable, and it was making his heartbeat pick up even more. “Yes, sir.” It was said with such warmth and respect that Sam shivered.

“Good,” Sam murmured, caressing Steve’s chest gently. “You just lay back and let me take care of you.” 

His fingertips trailed down, and he hesitated at the wound that would have killed Steve. His hand shook and he had to move down the bed, to lean down and press his mouth to the fresh new skin. Steve drew a breath between his teeth, and hell, Sam wanted to hear that sound again. He rubbed his cheek and jaw slowly against the scar, his beard catching on the sensitive skin, and Steve’s whole body arched and shifted under him.

“Does it hurt?”

There was a whisper of fabric and Sam glanced up to see Steve shaking his head. He was biting down on his lower lip. Sam kept his eyes on him as he parted his lips and closed his teeth around the mark, worrying at it gently, and dragging his teeth off it. Steve’s lips parted in a small, soundless gasp, and the muscles in his arms were twitching like crazy.

Sam smiled wickedly, and drew his tongue over the mark in a broad, flat stroke, again, and again, then lifted his head and blew so softly. Hearing Steve swearing was a special treat, but the downright filthy “Fuck!” make Sam’s cock twitch.

He got up off the bed, and reached down to the bedside locker. The drawer scraped on its runners and Steve seemed to hold his breath.

“Gotta admit, Cap,” Sam said, as casual as if they were talking over dinner, “I’m impressed. You’re doing real well.” He paused, then reached down and cupped Steve through his shorts, squeezing. Steve pushed against his hand wantonly. “You want more?”

Steve’s laugh was a tight gust. “You’re seriously asking that? Now?”

Sam grinned. “I like to be sure.” He straightened up again. “Since you’ve been so good, I’m gonna give you a treat. Open your eyes.”

Steve’s eyes were on him in a split-second, and Sam was amazed he didn’t just burn up at the heat in them. Steve darted his tongue along his lower lip, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

Sam reached for the towel, where it was still - miraculously - tucked around his waist. “Now, I gotta say I don’t do this for everyone, but I figure you’re the kind of guy who likes to have something to look at.” He flashed a grin. “Dinner and a show.”

Steve’s face broke into that beautiful smile of his. “Ass.”

Sam laughed. “Not quite.” He untucked the towel, but didn’t undo it all the way, just a little at a time. 

Steve was watching like a hawk, his breathing coming harder, as hip and thigh were bared. He swallowed again, hard, and dragged his eyes back up to Sam’s face. Sam winked, then let more of the towel drop, until he only had a bunch of fabric hanging from his fist right below his navel, preserving a little modesty.

“Jesus, Sam…” Steve whispered. “Jesus.”

Sam knew he was blushing. It had been a long while since anyone had looked at him like he was the second coming. “I’m gonna drop the towel,” he said, trying to keep his voice even and light. “Now, when I do, you have ten seconds to decide what you want to do next.”

“Wh-what are the choices?”

Sam folded the towel in half in front of him. “Whatever you wanna do.” He lifted a shoulder. “Like I said, you have ten seconds. If you can’t or don’t want to think of something, you just wait out those ten seconds, and I’ll choose.”

Either way, it was giving Steve the opportunity to make the choice, something Sam always wanted in his lovers.

He opened his hand and let the towel fall. 

Steve’s eyes fixed on him, and then looked up again. “I know what I want.” His voice was hoarse.

Sam smiled. “Yeah?”

Steve nodded, tonguing his lower lip. His eyes returned to Sam’s cock. “I want you in my mouth.”

Okay, that was a surprise. He definitely hadn’t expected Steve to ever be so direct about it, but hell, if that was what he wanted, Sam wasn’t about to say no, not when he’d privately been fantasising about it.

Sam licked his own lips. “You earned it,” he said. He gesture with one hand. “Scoot down the bed. Give me some room.” Steve hesitated, and Sam realised why. “You can take your hands out until you’re moved.”

Steve pushed himself a little way down the bed. “Enough?”

“Yeah.”

Right away, Steve’s hands were back behind his head.

Sam felt all weak at the knees, which was ridiculous. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had cooperative and playful lovers before, but this was different. This was Steve, and Steve was something special. And the biggest damned sub Sam had ever had in his bed, and it was _hot_.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered quietly. Steve did at once, which meant he didn’t see Sam trying to gather himself, because God, this was not how he’d imagined Steve’s recovery period going. He glanced into the drawer, then at Steve. “You want me covered or not?”

“Not,” Steve said at once. He laughed hoarsely. “I think I’m immune to everything anyway, even if you had something.”

Sam nodded, drawing and releasing a breath. When he went onto his knees on the bed, he saw the way Steve licked at his lips, the way he swallowed hard. He moved closer, swinging one leg over to straddle Steve’s ribs, reaching out to brace one hand on the headboard of the bed. Christ, Steve’s chest was wide. With every breath, Steve’s ribs were pressing against the length of his thighs, and his skin was so damned hot.

He reached down to grip himself. Not like he needed any help, really. The way Steve was just doing everything was enough to get him hard. His blood was pounding in his ears and his cock was throbbing as he looked down at Steve beneath him, lips already parted and wet.

He coulda said something dirty, but it didn’t feel right, not for them, not right now. Instead, he slowly rocked his hips forward and brushed the head of his cock against Steve’s lower lip, barely grazing. It was enough invitation for Steve, and Jesus, his mouth was as hot as the rest of him. Sam made a small, strangled around, and Steve’s mouth closed around him and swallowed him almost down to the balls.

Jesus, he had to have done that before. The way he was using his tongue, the way he was moving his head, the way he knew just when to swallow hard enough to make Sam see stars. Had to have done it before. Jesus. He grabbed at the headboard with his other hand too, trying to brace himself. His hips were moving of their own accord, and Steve was pulling back, rubbing his face against the length of Sam’s shaft, then catching him with his lips and swallowing him down all over again.

Sam couldn‘t even lift his head. He was panting and moaning.

Steve moved his head, caught his balls, sucked them and tongued at them too, then whispered hot against Sam’s thigh. “Can I look at you, Sam?”

Sam nodded dazedly, then remembered words. Words were good. “Yeah. Yeah, you can.”

And that just made everything worse and better all at once. Watching Steve watching him, as he fucked Steve’s mouth, his hips moving in long, deep strokes, watching Steve’s beautiful mouth stretch around him, watching his cheeks hollow, watching the pleasure in his face as Sam shuddered and came. Steve’s throat contracted around him, drinking every drop of him, and Sam slumped forward, braced against the headboard.

“Damn…”

Steve drew his head back and caught a trickle of cum from the corner of his mouth with his tongue. “Mm. Been a while. Guess it was okay?”

Sam tried to glare at him, but it was impossible when Steve looked like the cat that got the cream, smirking and smug, his hands still neatly tucked behind his head. “You’re an ass,” he said, pushing himself up, to halfway sit on Steve’s chest. 

Steve chuckled and it vibrated right up through Sam’s body. “Takes one to know one.” He breathed out, long, low, contented. “Y’look good up there.”

Sam looked down at himself, caught in the light filtering through the blinds. He was slick with sweat, his body shining with exertion, and boneless with satisfaction, and it was all Steve’s fault. “Don’t need to look so proud of yourself,” he said, laughing.

Steve’s smugness gave way to a more genuine, softer smile. “Still true. You look good, Sam.”

“You trying to make me blush, Rogers?”

Steve just laughed. “Is it working?”

Sam braced both hands on Steve’s chest and pushed himself back far enough so he could lean down and kiss him again. His lips tasted of cum, and for the first time, he caught Sam’s lip between his teeth, worrying it, then licking at it. His tongue stroked between Sam’s lips, and Sam kneaded at his shoulders, enjoying the casual intimacy of it.

It got a lot less casual when he felt Steve’s muscles shifting beneath him in a lazy undulation, and all at once, he felt Steve’s shorts-covered cock rubbing against his ass with every ripple of those muscles. He broke the kiss to look down at Steve, who raised his eyebrows with an innocent smile, as if he wasn’t doing a damned thing.

“You don’t do subtle, do you?”

Steve grinned at him, eyes dancing. “Look, no hands!”

Sam pushed himself back upright. “You mind if I dress you up for this? I mean, not that I don’t wanna be genetically enhanced by screwing or whatever, but-”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works,” Steve said, still smiling. “You do what you need to.”

Sam leaned down to kiss him again. “You’re a good man,” he said. “An asshole, but a good man.”

“An asshole?” Steve burst out laughing. 

“Hey, mine is body part, yours is title,” Sam said, punching him lightly on the chest as he swung off him, and crawled to the edge of the bed, groping in the drawer for the condoms and lube. He glanced at Steve’s cock again. “Damn. I don’t have any small ones.”

Steve gave him a look. “You want to use it or not? Insulting it isn’t a good start.”

Sam snickered. “I guess I’ll just have to apologise,” he said, crawling back down the bed and finally shoving Steve’s shorts down over his hips, drawing his cock out. 

Thank God he wasn’t too big, but he was thicker than Sam, and hard and ready to go. Sam wrapped his hand around it, dragging down slowly, then running his thumb around the seeping head. Steve didn’t even move, but Sam heard the long, slowly-released breath.

He hid a smile as he leaned lower and wrapped his mouth around Steve’s cock, swirling his tongue around the head, catching the taste of him.

A faint, barely audible “Fuck” escaped Steve, his whole body going tense as a wire.

Sam idly considered drawing it out as long as possible, but Steve had done everything he’d been told to do, and all when he was meant to be resting. He knelt back up, and tore open the condom wrapper, rolling it onto Steve’s cock with a practised hand.

“You use these back in the day?”

“Mm.” Steve was watching him. “Used to put my magazines in them to keep them dry.”

Sam rolled his eyes, grinning. “I get it. You’re old and frigid.” He squeezed some lube onto his hand, then slicked up Steve’s cock. He straddled Steve’s thighs and held out the tube of lube. “Want to get your hands dirty?”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “That an order?”

Sam gave the tube a shake. “My ass isn’t gonna lube itself.”

Steve sat up so fast it looked like he’d been catapulted. He snatched the lube with one hand, and had both arms around Sam’s waist. Even with Sam kneeling over him, they were almost eye to eye. Steve was gazing at him heatedly and Sam could feel the warmth of Steve’s breath on his lips.

Sam braced his hands on Steve’s shoulders, catching his breath as one broad hand squeezed his ass, and lube-slicked fingers dragged up the crease between his buttocks.

Steve’s tongue darted along his lower lip, his eyes never leaving Sam’s face as he pushed two fingers into him. His indrawn breath was as sharp as Sam’s own, and he leaned up suddenly and claimed Sam’s mouth. 

Sam groaned against his lips, one hand sinking into Steve’s hair. He pushed back against Steve’s hand, until those two fingers were stroking deeper, to the knuckle, spreading, making him moan into Steve’s mouth.

He pulled back, panting, when Steve added another finger, and he tugged at Steve’s hair. “Didn’t tell you to kiss me,” he said, trying for stern and hitting breathless horny teenager instead.

Steve smiled slowly. “Didn’t say not to.” He withdrew his fingers and squeezed Sam’s ass. “You good?”

Sam nodded, and pushed against his shoulders. “Lie back down,” he said, and this time, he managed stern. “You need to rest.”

Steve lay back down. “Hands behind my head?”

“You know it,” Sam replied crawling up his body until his knees were on either side of Steve’s ribs. He waited until Steve demurely tucked his hands behind his head again, then reached back and caught Steve’s cock in his hand, guiding himself down onto it.

Steve didn’t make a goddamned sound. Or maybe he did, and Sam just couldn’t hear it over his own groan of pleasure as Steve’s cock slid into him. He met Steve’s eyes and the other man was breathing hard, his biceps tensed. 

“Okay?” Sam managed to ask, bracing his hands on Steve’s chest.

Steve’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and he licked his lips, nodded. “Been in tighter spots.”

They stared at each other, each trying to keep a straight face, then both snorted. 

“Why the hell do I put up with you?” Sam laughed, shaking his head. 

“Desperation?” Steve suggested, then started slowly rolling his hips.

Sam matched the movement of Steve’s body, grinding his ass down against him. “Maybe I just like asses,” he countered, hissing between his teeth as Steve pushed up hard against him. His fingers curled, digging into the meat of Steve’s chest, earning guttural growl from is lover. “Big asses with little asses.”

Steve’s body moved in a ripple that ran from his ribs to his thighs and Sam’s whole body jolted when Steve pushed even deeper into him. Steve was watching him, his gaze intent and searing, and he kept right on moving, shifting the angle of his hips, just enough, until he hit Sam right where he wanted.

“God,” Sam groaned, dragging his nails down over Steve’s nipples. That didn’t help, because it just made Steve do it all over again, hitting that spot, until Sam couldn’t even think, couldn’t even breathe, and Jesus, he was getting hard again, and all he could do was keep rocking back against Steve and paw at him like some kind of crazy cat.

“Hey, Sam,” Steve’s voice was strained, breathless.

“Mm?”

Steve’s expression should have warned him, his grin, the crazy ass gleam in his eyes, but Sam was way too far gone to care, right up until Steve shifted his hips and changed his angle, and _thrust_. Sam yelled hoarsely at the ceiling, and somewhere that felt like a thousand miles away, he heard Steve pant, “On your left.”

Sam could only beat at his chest, torn between laughing helplessly and remembering how to breathe. By the time he had enough breath in him to yell at him, Steve was just grinning like it was his victory.

Sam tipped himself off Steve, sprawling down beside him. “I’m gonna have to shower again,” he said, holding up his arm into the shaft of daylight. “You got me looking like I oiled myself all over.”

“Mind if I join you?”

Sam tilted his head to look at him. “Just for showering or for other stuff?”

Steve shrugged, hands still behind his head. 

Sam pulled himself back level with Steve, leaning over him. He touched Steve's arms lightly, letting him withdraw them from under his head. “This isn’t about not wanting it,” he said gently. “Not desperation either. But you have that whole stamina thing and I was out running and-”

His words were cut off when Steve pulled him down to kiss him. His fingers brushed Sam’s cheek, and he stared at Sam. “I don’t know what you see in me.”

Sam leaned on his chest. “That’s because your brain was a popsicle and never defrosted.” He kissed him warmly. “I like you, even if you have the dumbest sense of humour and worst timing I ever heard of.”

Steve’s small smile returned. “I needed this,” he admitted. “I just- it’s been rough.” He looked up at Sam with that same wary expression, as if he expected to be laughed at. “I needed to be able to have some fun with someone I trusted.”

Sam sprawled down on him. “After the week we had? I think we deserve it.” Steve relaxed beneath him, the last of the tension dispersing. Sam sighed contentedly. “Not a bad way to start the morning, huh?”

Steve’s fingers brushed down the back of his neck. “No, it wasn’t.”


End file.
